


break my shackles to set me free.

by nicehcuse



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: M/M, also this was based off of run to you by pentatonix xoxo, fuck yeah it hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 06:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12404706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicehcuse/pseuds/nicehcuse
Summary: sillage - (n.) the scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been gone; the trace of someone's perfume.





	break my shackles to set me free.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stellarmads](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmads/gifts).



> jupiter and i did the pretty word challenge again oops i love pain HAAAAA

ㅤFor someone who always washed his sheets on Tuesdays, always at 3 PM so they would be fresh and ready for bed when he went to sleep, Stan didn’t want to even look at the washer or dryer.

ㅤMonday night, he held his spare pillow and pulled the comforter up to his nose and took in the lasting scent of Bill. His fingers tightened around the pillowcase, his eyes screwing shut, and began counting every memory he had with him to put him to sleep.

ㅤWhen 3 PM on Tuesday came, he knew full well that would be the very last time he could smell Bill. Instead, he left a pillowcase out, deciding that tomorrow he would buy a new one from the set.

ㅤHis therapist recommended that he schedule half an hour to be anxious and mourn, but Stan quickly found that he couldn’t restrict his emotions to half an hour. Every minute he thought about Bill. He also rediscovered small things that Bill had been looking for, and set them aside in a bowl on the kitchen island, hoping he would enjoy finally knowing where they had been. 

ㅤHis journal had quickly turned from being stressed about college to recalling every time that Bill had told him he loved him.

ㅤHe stopped listening to music on the drive to university, claiming it “distracted him from the road”, but no one was there when he turned on the radio and _their song_ had pulled through the static. Stan had to pull over and decided against going to his ethics class.

ㅤThe night after Bill passed, he still took his laundry out of the dryer and folded them, putting them in his drawers in hopes that Bill would walk through the door, talking about how he sometimes regrets picking night classes because the only places open afterwards were McDonald’s and Wendy’s, both of which made him feel gross.

ㅤStan only cut his hair when it got too long, never getting rid of his curls. The one time he did, Bill had commented on it, sounding sad and called them, “The Stannest thing about him,” so he kept them once they grew back out.

ㅤIt took weeks, almost months, before Stan could pull one of Bill’s books from the shelf. Even then, he couldn’t get past the dedications, breaking down when he read, “To Stanley Uris, but more specifically his dimples.”

ㅤWhen his English 102 class started a poetry unit, he couldn’t find a different subject to write about other than his Bill. He hoped he was proud of Stan’s 100% on his end of unit poem.

ㅤ _I will break down the gates of Heaven,_  
ㅤ _A thousand angels stand waiting for me._  
ㅤ _Take my heart and I’ll lay down my weapon,_  
ㅤ _Break my shackles to set me free._


End file.
